Closets and Teacakes
by Moyashi.beansprout
Summary: Because sometimes all that is required to get a couple of people together is a closet, a couple of tea-cakes, and a massage. FRUK. Please review. WRITTEN BY MIZUHARA, VOTE FOR MIZUHARA ON THE POLL!


**RATED T FOR LANGUAGE AND SEXUAL THEMES**

I wandered towards the conference building, glancing up at the arch as I passed beneath. The old Admiralty building had not been my first choice of location, it was a handsome building, but that damn Ferris wheel would distract all the micro-nations.

I let out a long sigh as I opened the wooden doors, I let the musty smell that can only be described as years of use hit my nostrils, and wash over me. I inhaled as deeply as possible, before keeling over and sneezing four times in quick succession.

I had forgotten why I fucking hate old buildings. Another sneeze slipped out of me as I quickly darted my hand into the messengers bag I had hanging off my shoulder.

I yanked out the box of extra strength Benadryl and checked the label. About five more sneezes had exploded out in the time it took to read the label *WARNING DO NOT TAKE MORE THAN 8 CAPSULES A DAY*

Fuck that, I'm a country. That shit can't hurt me. And with that, I downed half the box. I quickly stepped back outside. The pills would take a whole fifteen minutes to work and I was not ready to sneeze nonstop for fifteen minutes.

I leaned against the stone wall and breathed in the fresh air, a quick sneeze slipping out as I did so.

I leaned forward just enough to see through the stone arch. I happened a glance on a few other countries wandering towards my building.

I hated hosting the world meetings. Other countries chose the most splendid buildings for their meetings, showing off beautiful architecture and scenery. Italy and France were the worst offenders.

The Italy's didn't do it on purpose. Feliciano always picked out of proximity to a restaurant that served good pasta, and Lovino generally let Feliciano choose.

France does it because he wants to show off...and piss me off. He knows that I hate my lack of nice Parliament buildings, so he mocks me by finding the most elaborate places to have his meetings.

One time he hosted his in the Eiffel tower. That night had been filled with him making numerous penis jokes, and constant requests to visit my Big-Ben. Much eyebrow raising was involved. Oh how I despise that frog...and yet I have those persisting dreams.

Not just wet dreams, of course not! Those might be manageable! Although that is what they started out as, and I had thought nothing of it. It was natural really. Francis was attractive and I was always pretty sure I preferred gentleman, if you can even call that vulgar frog a gentleman. But one night it was different, it started off with sex, and as usual, I fell asleep in the dream afterwards.

And then suddenly I was waking up and Francis was proclaiming love for me and I was crying and hugging him...

That's when I actually woke up, sheets sticky and complete shock flowing through my body. I had just had a dream in which Francis had been more to me than some throwaway sex toy. Soon only half of the dreams I was having about him even included sex.

I let my face fall into my hands, I can't believe it. I let myself fall in love with that insufferable frog. That perverted horny bitch of a frog.

I've been outside for 10 minutes; all the other countries are probably already sitting down for the meeting... I need to be there to call everyone to order. I tried inhaling deeply through my nose, and was surprisingly enough not assaulted by sneezes. I'm fine; I guess taking 10 of those capsules speeds up the process.

I turned and started to run towards the door, I glanced to my watch. 10:36... Damn it, the meeting should have started 6 minutes ago. I whipped the doors of the building open and quickly tried to recall where the meeting is supposed to be. The building is 3 floors and is quite frequently used for government meetings. Currently the whole third is being used for some meeting over the new royal couple. They never use first floors for meetings with countries, only because they don't want people accidently looking in through the windows, so we're on the second floor.

I think we're somewhere in between 201 and 203, three rooms, 2/3 possibility of embarrassment... damn it... I moved towards the first room, 201, I breathed deeply before pushing the door open. It's empty, just a long conference table with chairs on either side. I let out a sigh of relief. Thank god. Two more rooms to go.

The second had a smaller door, but I think I can hear some voices coming from behind it. This is probably the room. I quickly pushed the door to 202 open. It turns out 202 isn't a conference room, nope, it's actually a broom closet that was accidently labelled as a normal room. It's also apparently France's favourite hideout when we are here and he meets up with secretaries.

The image that meets my eyes is of Francis, shirtless, reaching down some male secretaries pants. Meanwhile, it appeared that the secretary was in the midst of running his tongue along Francis's collar bone. Both of their eyes snap to mine, I avoided the secretary's eyes and mine momentarily lock with Francis's. His eyes were clouded over with lust but, they quickly widened in surprise at the sight of me.

I finally found my voice, "Sorry for interrupting your...activities...I'll be on my way." My voice is bathed in sarcasm, which covers up the pain quite sufficiently. I turned and started to walk down the hall.

I guess it was room 203.

I hear Francis and the man exchange a quick few words before the sound of a door closing resounds through the hallway, followed by quick footsteps moving towards me.

"Ah, I'm sorry to surprise you like that, I wasn't expecting any...interruptions" his voice sounds almost level despite the activities he was just partaking in. I ignored him and quickly turned the handle to the conference room, "Arthur I really am quite sorry." The whole conference room is staring at us. Everyone had heard Francis's last remark. The room almost immediately breaks into whispering as I move towards my seat. From what I can make out from their whispers everyone is making assumptions that have something to do with me sleeping with Francis. Those Pricks. Countries just can't seem to resist gossip.

"Sorry I'm late everyone. I had to wait for my allergen medicine to kick in." Many pairs of eyebrow quickly rise and I almost get dizzy from the amount of eye rolling. I can see Spain and Prussia high fiving France out of the corner of my eye. "Now today's meeting is going to focus on the situation in Libya."

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To say the meeting didn't go well would be an understatement. The whole time other countries were whispering, and if anyone was called on they would have to be reminded of the last few statements. Only one conclusion had been reached by the end; that America is a complete dumbass and no one should ever listen to his plans. We already knew that, but having him suggest that they collect all the obese people in America and dump them on Libya to solve the problems there just reinforced his stupidity.

I stacked the last of my papers and leaned my face into my hands. Images of France in a closet doing unspeakable things to that secretary were flashing through my head at an almost incomprehensible rate. A faint tap resounded on my shoulder; I turned to find said secretary standing right behind me trying to avoid my gaze.

"Um...I am really sorry for almost having sex with your boyfriend sir...I didn't know he was taken...and y'know he did come on to me..." the man trailed off as I attempted to glare bullet holes into his skull.

"He. Is. Not. My. Boyfriend." Where the hell did this lunatic even get ideas like that?

"Oh...sorry. He said you two were dating...so are you his girlfriend or something then?" I watched his eyes 'subtly' glance towards my crotch.

"No I am completely male, penis and everything. And that git and I are not dating, nor will we ever be. So please, feel free to fuck him senseless." The man's eyes quickly shot away from my crotch, and quickly focused on something of to my left. I stormed my way out of the room, making sure to slam my shoulder into him as I passed. I felt my face twitch into a smirk at the sound of him stumbling, serves the little bugger right.

I slammed the door shut and hastily made to exit the ancient building. I rushed down the stairs, almost tripping a handful of times. Then there he was, non-chalantly leaning against the archway I had been walking through only a few hours ago. My lips immediately tightened so much that I wouldn't be surprised if they melted together. Against my better judgement, I made a beeline towards him, accusations on the tip of my tongue.

"Ah Angleterre, how are you? I feel that meeting turned out quite lovely, oui?" I felt my eye twitch the slightest bit, he really is a bloody asshole.

"What the hell gave you the idea I would approve of you telling that secretary we were dating?" I could feel my hands twitching; I really wanted to clock the frog.

"Hmm, it's not far from the truth so naturally I assumed there would be no problem." His lips slipped into a thin smile.

"The thought of me even considering going out with you is about as likely as Germany approving one of America's ideas." I turned to head home; France was immediately strolling along with me.

"Well with Amérique's new boss I'm sure he'll be offering good ideas within the week." Francis picked up his pace the slightest bit, before turning and walking backwards so as to face me.

"Unfortunately Alfred has some difficulty listening and it is unlikely that any of his boss's messages will be delivered to us."

France licked his lips slowly and smiled, "Well I think I could 'fix' his 'unfortunate' listening skills.'" I blanched; he really was a fucking pervert.

"Is every time a good time for you to verbally molest countries?" I quirked my eyebrow. He really should learn some manners.

He tilted his head to the side and stroked his stubble softly, "Why yes, yes I think it is."

I rolled my eyes and walked straight towards my vehicle. "As mentally invigorating as this conversation is, I really must be heading home." I unlocked the doors to my Mini Cooper and moved to climb inside.

Francis smoothly sidled right up beside the car, "Speaking of getting home, I appear to be short on change. If there any chance you could give me a lift to my hotel?" I glared up at him and started to close the door on him, but he quickly moved his knee in the way of the door, "Its right next to your house and you can come in for tea when we get there." My tea was just as good as his, but he had a habit of serving cakes with his tea that, although I would never admit it, were quite amazing.

"Fine. Get in." Francis smiled gratefully and strolled around to the passenger's side.

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A/N Yeahhh...enjoy my first FrUK story ever! They were my OTP when I started writing this so I felt it was necessary that I finish it. This is going to be a two-shot. I already have the whole thing planned out so don't worry about me taking too long on the next chapter. Also holy crap France and England are hard to write, could some people rate how well I wrote them on a scale of 1 to 10 (1 being what the hell you can't write 10 being are Himaruya?) and give me tips on how to write the characters. Thanks.

ALSO IF YOU SEE ANY GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES PLEASE TELL ME!


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